


Wing and Claw

by ThePenAndTheSword



Series: Old Works [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: AU, BAMF Arthur, BAMF Merlin, Birds, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Shapeshifter, Vigilantism, Violence, Wings, Wolves, but it's a reveal, it's not magic, magic reveal sorta, power struggles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-24
Updated: 2014-07-02
Packaged: 2018-02-06 02:13:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1840582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePenAndTheSword/pseuds/ThePenAndTheSword
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU where the citizens of Camelot can transform into birds, and live in elaborate "nests" above the forest floor. Meanwhile, packs of werewolves roam the forest. Engaged in a war that's lasted as long as they can remember, Arthur and his friends try to survive. But when Morgana's political maneuvering results in Arthur and Merlin fleeing Camelot, they learn more about each other and the world around than they ever thought possible, until Merlin's deadly secret threatens to ruin them both.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Storm Warning

            “Merlin, it’s fine. Honestly, I can manage to undress myself without your help. Go back to your quarters and rest, you’ve earned it.” Arthur dismissed his somewhat confused manservant with a concealed impatience. He had business to do tonight, and Merlin could not know anything about it. Bloody idiot would probably get himself killed trying to help. Within The Nest, he was kept relatively safe from the vicious packs that controlled the forest beneath. As for Arthur, staying safe wasn’t a major concern of his. Once he was certain Merlin wasn’t coming back, Arthur began gathering the supplies he would need for tonight’s mission. He belted on his sword over his armor and stuffed some food in a knapsack, along with several weapons. He spotted an apple left on his dinner tray (which Merlin had forgotten to remove) and pocketed it with a grin.

            Arthur opened the window in his room slowly, despite the low risk of being caught he didn’t want it to squeak. He took a deep breath and changed, exhaling slowly as feathers erupted from his skin and his clothes and supplies melted away. He closed his eyes as his body shrank and his arms dissolved into his ribs. A pair of tawny wings spurted from his back. He opened his eyes and hopped awkwardly towards the windowsill, reveling in the feel of the wind against his feathers. Arthur leapt into the night, soaring away on his powerful wings.

            Several minutes later, Arthur glided to a halt above a covered dwelling atop a tree. It was circular and vaguely resembled a nest, but a nest with a roof, furniture, and other human necessities. No walls of course, they needed easy access from the air. He changed form as he glided down, landing on the floor of the dwelling with all the elegance and grace expected of an avian prince.

            “Hey princess, got any food for me?” asked his fellow knight, Gwaine. Arthur chuckled as he grabbed the apple from his pocket and tossed it at him, then stored the remainder of the food in the cupboard. Arthur looked around at the rest of the group, everybody was here except for Lancelot, but that was to be expected. Years ago, Arthur had formed a group of, not vigilantes per say, but like minded men who believed the only good wolf was a dead wolf. Most of them lived near or inside Camelot, known to all but King Uther as The Nest, a massive collection of similar dwellings connected by rope bridges. Lancelot was the exception; he had been banished shortly after the formation of the knights due to a disagreement with Uther. He often spotted a pack on his way to meetings, which the knights were able to track down and slaughter. After all, they were at war, no matter how much King Uther advocated his policy of ignoring the wolves and hoping they went away.

            After Lancelot arrived, Arthur handed out the weapons he had “borrowed” from Camelot’s armory. Weapons were hard to come by for several of the knights. Leon already had his sword; he was a guard in Camelot. Elyan, Lancelot and Gwaine were given swords, crossbows, and daggers. Percival got a broadsword, larger and more powerful than those of his fellow knights. After a stern warning not to break this batch of weapons too soon, they all changed to their avian forms and set off.

            Gwaine soared far higher than the other knights, his peregrine falcon form excellent for dive bombing enemies. Elyan’s avian form was a tawny owl, so he scouted ahead with his excellent night vision. Lancelot darted around, his kestrel form suited to relaying messages throughout the formation without being visible to possible watching eyes below. Arthur, Leon, and Percival were spread out behind Elyan, flanking him in case of attack. Their powerful forms were the bulk of the knights’ fighting abilities while airborne. Percival was a golden eagle, Leon a bald eagle, and Arthur was a red tailed hawk.

            Within a few minutes, Elyan let out three soft hoots, alerting the knights of a three wolf pack ahead. Soon, the wolves were visible to the remainder of the knights. Arthur let out a soft call, telling the others to follow the wolves until they reached a large enough clearing, then attack. Communication was difficult in avian form, but they had created an extensive system of signals to communicate clearly. The knights approached a clearing, then attacked.

            The pack was clearly surprised that somebody would dare strike this deep into their territory. Or perhaps it was Gwaine ripping bloody furrows in the leader’s back. That tends to be surprising. Gwaine was up and out of reach before the pack even realized he was there. During their momentarily distraction, Arthur, Lancelot, Percival, and Leon were on the ground, fully human and already armed. Elyan landed a moment later, changing back to a near human form, but retaining his night vision. It had saved them many times in the past. The knights surrounded the pack, ready for blood.

            “Any last words?” taunted Arthur. The only response was a snarl, three sets of bloody teeth bared in Arthur’s direction. Exactly as planned. Percival and Leon charged from behind, their swords cutting bloody stripes in the hides of the wolves. The leader jumped out of the way and charged towards Lancelot. Lancelot twisted out of the way, and his sword came down at an angle perfect for skinning the creature. It failed, but it was quite painful on the scratches Gwaine had made. Gwaine dive-bombed one of the other wolves, stunning it long enough for Elyan to thrust his blade through its heart with perfect aim. The third howled in anguish and leapt towards Elyan. Arthur had just enough time to duck underneath and slash at the wolf’s unprotected belly, spilling out it’s entrails in a gory mess. The knights all looked around for the leader, but it was gone, vanished into the night.

            The rest of the night was uneventful. After quickly patching up their wounds, paying special attention to their arms, the knights transformed and flew homeward. At their treetop dwelling the split apart. Lancelot soared to the north and his home, Gwaine traveled south to his. Elyan flew towards The Nest with Arthur and Leon, as he was staying in a dwelling near the city at the request of his sister.

            The thought of a nice warm bed occupied Arthur during the flight towards his window, if not for that distraction he may have noticed that his bedroom was not as empty as when he left it.


	2. Storm Breaking

            Arthur remained blissfully unaware of the turmoil to come, until he looked up. Morgana sat in his chair with a satisfied smirk on her face. “And where did you go this late at night, brother dear?” asked Morgana.

            “I’ve been out, not that it’s any of your business. Not theirs either,” Arthur replied, gesturing to the squad of guards accompanying Morgana. “What exactly is the meaning of this?” he inquired, his joking tone gone.

            “Perhaps you should ask Father,” her tone similarly stern, struggling to conceal her amusement. “Are you coming willingly?” The look in her eyes was enough to convince Arthur that any attempt at protesting would not end well for him.

            “Very well.”

            The walk to King Uther’s chambers seemed like an eternity. Citizens stared and servants fled, the gossip already spreading. Prince Arthur had been arrested. His crime was unknown, even to him. During the whole walk, Arthur kept coming back to one conclusion. His only “crime” had been killing nearby wolves, something Uther would certainly approve of. So, someone had given him false information. Somebody was out to get him. Perhaps one of the nobles, looking to discredit the royal children and get himself named the Heir? Or Morgana, eliminating her competition? No, surely not. It had to be someone else. A lycan plot no doubt. That had to be it, but wouldn’t Uther be able to see that? And who did the king trust enough to believe their accusations? Morgana came to mind again, but he dismissed it. There was no way she was causing this, was there?

            The walk to Uther’s chambers was both an eternity and an instant. Now that they were there, it seemed like no time had passed at all. The doors opened with a menacing creak. Arthur gulped, then wiped the emotion from his face and replaced it with confidence, before striding in.

            Uther looked up at his son with a worried expression. “Arthur, come in. We have many things to discuss. Morgana, you too,” he commanded. Once they were both seated, Uther spoke again, and with each word Arthur became more puzzled. “Morgana, is the room secure?”

            “Yes father. The guards are keeping everyone away, eavesdropping is impossible.”

            “Good. You have done well.” Morgana’s face flushed with pride at the unexpected compliment.

            “Arthur, I do hope you realize how much of a favor I’m doing you here.”

            At this point, Arthur was so bewildered that he had lost track of everything that was happening. “I’m afraid I don’t. What exactly is going on?”

            Uther sighed, as if Arthur was missing the obvious. “These accusations. I’m giving you a chance to come clean in private, rather than a formal trial. If you repent, all will be forgiven. If not, things could become progressively worse.”

            “But I haven’t even been told what I was supposedly doing!” protested Arthur.

            Uther sighed again. “Arthur, the evidence is overwhelming. Your nighttime ventures, the missing weapons from the armory, the reduction in lycan attacks on Camelot, the faint scent of wolf on your armor. It all adds up. Just admit to it, and your punishment will be lessened.”

            “Fine, if you care that much about it. So I’ve been killing the bloody wolves, is it really that much of a problem that it requires a trial? We are at war.” Arthur held his breath following his outburst; Uther’s angered expression was not a good sign.

            Morgana spoke up “I’m sorry for bringing this to your attention Father; I should have known he wouldn’t admit it. I’m just causing trouble for us. You have my apologies.”

            Uther’s face softened when he glanced at his firstborn. “You acted perfectly Morgana. None of this is your fault. Arthur on the other hand, this is your last chance. Speak the truth.”

            By now, Arthur’s confusion had vanished and was replaced by a cold anger. How could anyone dare seek to discredit the prince of Camelot? “Father, whatever I have been accused of, I assure you, I am innocent. I would never do anything to harm you or Camelot. Tell me who has lied to you, please. I will bring you their head gladly.”

            Uther’s face hardened, and what he said would be fixed in Arthur’s memory forever. “You are no longer my son.” He turned to Morgana, his face betraying no emotion “Take the traitor to the upper dungeons.”

            Morgana stood and curtsied before speaking. “Of course my lord.”

            Arthur stood numbly as his father dismissed them, wordlessly allowed Morgana and the group of guards to take him to the upper dungeon. It was a series of cells atop a tree even taller than the others in the area. Hundreds of steps, a winding staircase that creaked and threatened to deposit them on the floor 200 feet below, and Arthur remembered none of it. He snapped out of his trance with a start when the cell door closed with a loud clang. Obviously something had gone very wrong, but Arthur still had no clue what had happened.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            The following morning, Merlin woke up. Not a sudden awakening, or a particularly violent one. This struck him as strange, but he dismissed it. Merlin rolled over to avoid the sunlight glaring on his face. Sunlight, wasn’t there something he should be doing? He wasn’t doing anything this morning, was he? Oh. Morning. Right. Arthur.

            Merlin sat up with a start. Arthur would be furious that Merlin wasn’t serving him breakfast already. Why had Gaius allowed him to sleep so long? Merlin rolled out of bed and poked his head out the door. No sign of Gaius. That was odd. What could be so important that Gaius was out this early in the morning? Merlin decided it didn’t matter and snagged a hunk of cheese from the cupboard. He’d eat on the way to Arthur’s, make up for some lost time.

            After exiting the chambers he shared with Gaius, Merlin came across an unpleasant surprise. There were people everywhere. There was no way he’d be able to walk to Arthur’s on time. He wondered what had happened last night, obviously something important. Arthur would know. Merlin groaned, he hated having to fly around other avians. He enjoyed the flying itself, everybody did, but he was just so clumsy about it. Arthur never stopped teasing him about his lack of grace, strength, or general skills as a bird. Well, standing around wouldn’t get him to Arthur’s chambers any faster. Merlin closed his eyes and changed, dark feathers sprouted from his skin and wings grew from his back. Merlin’s wings flapped powerfully as he hopped into the air, flying to Arthur’s rooms with the wings of a raven.

            Minutes later, Merlin tumbled from the sky in a graceless jumble of limbs and feathers. He stood shakily and saw the Lady Morgana approaching over a bridge, smirking. Of all the people to witness his failure, it had to be her. He composed himself and smiled, trying to look as if falling from the sky like a fledging was his intention all along.

            Morgana greeted Merlin with a puzzled hello. “Merlin, what are you doing here?”

            Merlin looked at her in confusion. “Reporting to Arthur milady, as I do every morning.”

            “So you didn’t hear?” Her face was an emotionless mask, hinting at concealed sorrow.

            “Hear what?”

            “Arthur has been accused of treason.”

            Merlin’s face grew steadily whiter as Morgana told him of Arthur’s supposed crime. It wasn’t possible, was it? Arthur wasn’t like that. He couldn’t be. It had to be a lie. He cleared his throat. “Erm, where are they keeping him?”

            “The upper dungeon.”

            “But that’s…” Merlin’s voice trailed off.

            “I suppose father thought the wolves would be more likely to free him than eat him.”

            “I.. I’m sorry milady, I must go. Gaius probably needs me.”

            Morgana nodded in understanding. “Go, he was Arthur’s tutor as a child. The poor man is probably blaming himself.”

            Merlin changed as quickly as possible, no longer caring that his change was slower and clumsier than the majority of avians. He had much bigger problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a clarification, The Nest has two dungeons. The Lower Dungeon has several levels and is located near the bottom of the same tree as the Upper Dungeon. The lower levels are very perilous for avian prisoners, due to the occasional roving lycan pack that may attack. It is used for prisoners who the wolves are more likely to hurt than help. The Upper Dungeon is far higher, impossible for wolves to access without avian assistance. It is mainly used for lycans and lycan sympathizers.


	3. Bloodrain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note about the lycans, they can transform at any time they choose. Their wolf forms are stronger at night, and even stronger when there is a full moon.

            Arthur paced. After all, it wasn’t like he had anything else to do. Night was beginning to fall and there still was no change in the dull monotony. Nobody brought him food or water, no guards ever showed their faces. Any other prisoners must have been on a different floor, as Arthur couldn’t hear anything other than his own footsteps. Until he did. First there was a dull thwack, followed by a loud clatter. And another clatter. A few minutes later, there was a clicking noise, and then a creak. By now Arthur was crouched next to the door of his cell. Whatever was happening, it couldn’t be a good thing.

            The door handle jiggled ominously as the clicking noise returned. Somebody was picking the lock. Arthur searched for a weapon and took off his shoe in desperation when he found none, holding it aloft, ready to smack an unwary attacker.

            Arthur brought his shoe down on the intruder’s head with the strength of a thousand shopkeepers. “Ow! What was that for, you clotpole?”

            Arthur stopped suddenly, the shoe dropping from his hand. “Merlin? What on earth are you doing?”

            “I should be asking you that.”

            Arthur stared dumbfounded at his manservant. “But you… You’re not supposed to know how to do that. Picking locks, breaking into places. You’re Merlin.”

            Merlin grinned. “I have many hidden talents,” he replied.

            Arthur shook his head and sighed, then began putting his shoe back on. “I don’t suppose you know what I’ve been accused of?”

            Merlin smirked. “I thought you knew, since you’ve supposedly done it.”

            “Merlin! We don’t have time for this,” Arthur exclaimed.

            “Yes, please keep shouting. Do you want to attract the guards?” said Merlin. “You’ve been accused of trying to make peace with the wolves.”

            Arthur struggled to contain a snort of laughter. “That’s rich. Me? Making peace? Is everybody around here a moron?”

            “So you’re innocent then?”

            “Of course I’m innocent. How on earth could you think otherwise?”

            “Uther seems convinced,” replied Merlin. A sudden shout from below reminded the two avians of the situation. “Right, we need to go.”

            “I know a place south of here. It’s safe, and nobody else knows of it.” Arthur ran through the door and hurled himself off the path, changing form mid-leap. He flapped up to the bridge and paused, waiting for Merlin.

            Merlin frowned and muttered “show off”, before he changed form as well. He glared at Arthur before following him into the air, leaving Camelot, her cells and two fallen guards behind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            Arthur’s intended destination was a safe house he had built for himself about a half day’s flight from both Camelot and the Knight’s gathering place. After about an hour he noticed some problems with that plan. First of all, there were many packs of wolves roaming on the forest floor. Luckily Arthur and Merlin weren’t visible to them, but if the moon came out there would be trouble. There was no way that they could make it to the safe house if the clouds parted. At least it wasn’t a full moon. The second, and more urgent problem, was Merlin. He obviously wasn’t used to flying this far or this fast, and was tiring quickly. Arthur acted like he didn’t care about Merlin, but in reality the clumsy manservant was a true friend that he could not afford to lose.

            Arthur glanced behind him at Merlin and slowed his pace. It wasn’t enough to be noticeable immediately, he couldn’t show visible concern, but it was enough to make the journey a bit easier. Suddenly, a howl interrupted his thoughts. The clouds were clearing up, and they were visible. A pack had seen them, and more were undoubtedly on the way. This was not good. He could hear answering howls from all directions, but barely any from the west. Arthur mentally cursed and took a sharp left, trusting that Merlin would follow.

            One of the packs had somehow gotten ahead of them, and the creatures shifted to human form. They had weapons. Arrows flew through the sky in a deadly storm; a single injury could easily bring an avian to their death. Falling to the ground was a death sentence, or worse. Arthur ducked and weaved through the maze of projectiles. He sped up, mentally begging Merlin to hurry. Arthur hoped that they were aiming for him, and not his smaller companion.

            A sharp cry of pain behind him told Arthur that his hope was false. He quickly smothered all his worry and emotion in favor of taking action. There’d be time for feelings later. Arthur looped upwards and came down directly on top of his struggling friend. He extended his claws and gripped the top of Merlin’s wings before rushing away, flying faster than he’d ever flown before. Slowly, Merlin’s faint struggles subsided, filling Arthur with intense worry. He spotted a massive tree up ahead, with a naturally flat top and a height that dwarfed all trees nearby. It had to be at least 400 feet tall, opposed to the two or three hundred foot tall trees surrounding it. Arthur dove down towards the tree tops, hoping to lose their pursuers as he made haste towards the tree. It would be a safe spot to rest, and make sure Merlin was okay. As much as he tried to hide it, Arthur was frightened. The warm blood under his claws wasn’t very reassuring.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            Merlin was in trouble. Even he knew it. From the moment the arrow struck his wing, it was obvious. There was too much blood. When Arthur grabbed him Merlin struggled a bit, but quickly lost the strength to do even that. Didn’t Arthur see? He was just going to drag Arthur down; there was no saving Merlin anymore. Either he’d bleed to death, or the scent of blood would attract the wolves. If only Arthur would just let him sleep. Everything was starting to blur together. His last image before blacking out was a massive tree looming in front of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings friends! I'm going to be gone from the 5th to the 27th on a camping trip, and it's very unlikely that I'll be able to write or publish during that time. If I have time I'll be able to write one more chapter before I leave, but no guarantees. To those sharp eyed ones who noticed the tags changed, I will modify the tags as the story evolves. I have a semi-solid idea of where the story's supposed to go, but it can change at any moment. As always, comments are welcomed. I don't bite, unless you're into that. Promise.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fanfiction I've posted on this site, and any comments or criticisms would be highly appreciated. I have the story mostly planned out, but sending me predictions and ideas would be amazing.


End file.
